


Glory and Gore

by meloncoolie



Series: Glory and Gore [1]
Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Attempted Murder, Blood and Injury, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Friendship/Love, Gentle Kissing, Identity Reveal, Implied/Referenced Torture, Izaya acts like Yuno AGAIN, Kidnapping, M/M, Mild Language, Obsessive Behavior, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Plot Twists, Possessive Behavior, Slight making out, Stalking, Yandere! Izaya
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-07-03 23:56:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15829545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meloncoolie/pseuds/meloncoolie
Summary: Getting into a relationship with Izaya Orihara seemed like a harmless decision to the 20-year-old Mikado Ryuugamine. Well, other than the fact that he’s considered one of the most dangerous men in Ikebukuro and he was warned to stay away from him at all costs. But nothing bad can come out of pure, tender hearted love, right? After all, despite his odd interests and his eccentric personality, Izaya’s somewhat calm and collected, and rather charming. He must have been in some sort of relationship before.Mikado discovered that he was horribly wrong a little too late.





	1. Female Robbery - The Neighbourhood

**Author's Note:**

> Good lord, here we go again with another Yandere!Izaya story. This fic is based generally on this one insane dream I had, which involved Mikado, Izaya, Masaomi, and some other stuff. For example, the weirdest part was—oh wait, I don’t think I can say just yet. That would spoil the story!
> 
> I’ve wanted to create a story involving a Yandere!Izaya that doesn’t revolve around an AU for a looong time. So I’m writing this to satisfy myself and my own writer’s hunger. (Is that a thing??)

It was a midsummers’ night.

 

It was a fair night, in fact. The sky was clear as crystal, and the air was lukewarm, which meant you could take a little stroll outside without either melting or freezing to death.

 

That was the goal of Anri Sonohara. She was on her way to a friend’s house to talk to him about something. Something, that if not addressed, could put his and his friends’ lives in peril.

 

Except, she wasn’t pleasantly

strolling.

 

 

She was running. Sprinting across city blocks.

 

 

Away from something. Someone.

 

The bespectacled young lady was never much for physical activity, but she did possess endurance, which aided her a great deal. That seemed to be the one of the only things that had helped her pass gym class in her academic years.

 

She didn’t seem to know the figure chasing her at first. After all, no recognizable facial features could be seen—the person’s face was covered by the hoodie of a jacket and a mask. She couldn’t tell if they were even male or female. But, whoever they were, they were still in pursuit of Anri nonetheless.

 

The girl had managed to lose the figure around a sharp turn. Up ahead of her, she spotted a darkened alleyway and ducked into it. She didn’t care if someone attempted to abduct her in these so-called “murder alleys” at this point. She just needed a place to hide where she could get ahold of her friend.

 

Her back against the wall, Anri slid down onto the paved ground so she was sitting. Her head was cast upwards, in an attempt to help her catch her own breath. A few seconds later than she realized, she whipped out her cell phone and fumbled around, trying to find her friend’s phone number in her contact list. Once dialed, she held the phone up close to her ear as she listened to the dial tone.  _Pick up, pick up,_ her mind raced frantically.  _Please!_

 

The other side of the phone picked up with a  _click._ Anri’s heart skipped a beat.

_ ”Sonohara-san, is something the matter? It’s really _ late...” A sleepy voice on the other end drawled.

 

The girl spoke in a hushed yet frantic whisper, invoking urgency in her situation. “Yes, I know, but you need to listen to me. I’m being chased right now, and I’m hiding in an alley for as long as I can.”

 

_“...wait, what? Chased? By who?!”_

Anri leaned in a bit closer so she seemed to be curled up in a ball. She wanted to reply to her friend in a way that she knows that nobody could listen in on, because the information she retrieved from Saika could potentially take her life.

 

“It’s—“

 

A sharp object flew right by her face, narrowly missing her right cheek. Before Anri could make another sound, her small cell phone was knocked right out of her hand, almost like the wind, hitting the ground hard. She put her open hand to her mouth, stifling a heavy gasp. Crawling over on the dirty ground cautiously, she eyed the phone and the damage it took.

 

Her eyes widened.

 

The phone was completely pierced by a knife. A switchblade, to be exact. It had hit the phone screen dead center, and had formed a pattern much like broken ice or glass. The young lady wanted to reach out to touch it out of curiosity, but there was no time. Now she had to go with her original plan—telling her friend in person. It was the only other option she had. She swiped up the broken phone, shoved it in her pocket, and whipped right around to run.

 

“Going to save your friend in person?”

 

Right as Anri attempted to leave the alley, the figure from beforehand cut her off, before she even began. Her grip on the phone tightened in her pocket, and her eyes seemed to command the other to back off. She took a step back; a cautious and seemingly preparatory stance. “Going to save him from you.”

 

“Oh?” The figure tilted his head to the side slightly.

 

Anri continued after a second of hesitation. “You’re insane, and you’re more insane if you could  _ever_ think for a  _second_ that Ryuugamine-kun would love someone as twisted and contorted as you! I have no idea what on Earth you’re planning to do to him—but whatever it is, I’ll be sure to protect him from a narcissistic monster like you!”

 

The figure’s body twitched slightly as Anri delivered her final words. The young woman in front of him took little to no notice of this, and kept up her strong and fearless show.

 

For a few brief moments, the only sound that could be heard was the chittering of unsuspecting passers-by and the revving of cars and motorcycles. The taller figure spoke softly, yet somehow laced with venom. “...I see.” Anri’s determined and excited expression lessened just the slightest bit. “...I was going to let you off easy, because I still consider you to be human for the most part. But, ha ha...” He stepped closer to the girl, who’s hands had begun to shake several minutes beforehand. She could tell that he was wearing a smile on his masked face, but not the nice kind. The lethal, horrible, pit-in-your-stomach forming kind. “You just had to call me...a monster, was it? I don’t appreciate being reminded of the brute who I’ve tried to kill several times already.” The figure’s scowl could be heard via the tone of his voice.

 

_ “Goodbye, Anri-chan~” _

 

The young woman didn’t have time for her eyes to widen.

 

Blood was already beginning to soak her hoodie and drip down her side.

 

As she hit the ground with a flump, she caught a last glimpse of it.

 

Saika. The very thing that slowly ate away at her humanity, each time she had used it. With whatever remained of her draining strength, she feebly reached out with her right arm to touch it, one last time.

 

Just as her fingertips brushed the handle, the figure kicked it out of her reach. “Saika doesn’t exactly have healing powers, you know. You can’t be saved. Accept eternal rest as your reward for ‘protecting’ Mikado Ryuugamine.”

 

 

A few things happened at once.

 

 

The young woman shut her eyes for a final time.

 

 

A short knife was brought down on her neck.

 

 

And elsewhere, a young man had just fallen asleep, pushing off the worries of his lady friend to another time.

 

 

The figure then smiled underneath his mask; a similar smile to before. “Silly Anri-chan...look where acting like the heroine got you.” He bent down, and quickly but cautiously drew the bloodied blade from the lifeless body of Anri Sonohara.

 

** “I’m the only one who gets to protect Mikado.” **


	2. My Blood - Twenty One Pilots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some fluff, and friend stuff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How long has it been since this was updated? August something?? Jeez...haha, sorry about that. School started up for me around then and I haven’t had a lot of time to write since. But here you go! Chapter 2! Yeah!

_I should get up soon._

A young, groggy looking man laid in bed, staring aimlessly at a space near his clock. His eyes were weighed down with whatever those weird eye-crust thingies were, so they were cracked open just a smidge. Due to the rising amount of sunlight shining in through his windows, though, he was tempted to close his eyes. Nonetheless, he kept them open, knowing he would still have to get up out of bed any minute.

 

Which he ended up doing 10 seconds later, crawling up out of his bed with a yawn. He sluggishly stumbled over to his blinds and pulled them open, drenching him in sunlight.  _Nice day today._

The young man stood in front of his window for a while, just thinking. He—Mikado Ryuugamine—was a thinker. He found great opportunity in putting his mind to the test, and in exploring possibilities. When there was nothing for him to think about, his mind would seemingly redirect itself in a way where it could find something think about. However, his thinking usually comes off as daydreaming, as people usually catch him staring off into space while trying to get his attention.

 

In the small bathroom attached to his bedroom, Mikado grabbed a towel and placed it on the sink counter. He turned on the water on his shower faucet and set it to a lukewarm-but-still-relatively-hot temperature, which was what he liked. The young man tended to get cold easily, so he needed something to thaw his skin sometimes, especially in cold or chilly weather.  _I think I should’ve made breakfast before this. I’m pretty hungry..._ He peeled off his t-shirt, shorts and underwear and stepped into the shower.

 

For a 20-year-old young man, Mikado had a rather petite body type. He wasn’t as tall or as muscular as his best friend or his boyfriend, which still made him slightly self-conscious. Whenever he brought this subject up to these people, it seemed to attract the same response, but just in different ways:

 

His best friend: Makes an enthusiastic speech on how “dope” Mikado’s 2-and-a-half-pack is and punches him in the shoulder.

 

His boyfriend: Says that he’s just as perfect as himself and kisses him somewhere. Then pokes Mikado in the stomach because it’s “rock hard”. Mikado used to get embarrassed at this, but now he just goes along with it because he knows that the latter cares about him. The corners of his mouth turned upwards as he thought about this.  _He’s so sweet when he wants to be._

After a few minutes, Mikado turned off the water and stepped out of the shower onto a fuzzy bath mat, tickling his feet. He grasped a towel that was hanging off of a rung and wrapped it around his waist. A light layer of steam wafted around the bathroom, causing condensation to build up on the large mirror outside of the shower.

 

The young man took another towel and tousled his hair with it, shaking out drops of water and drying it off.  _I’ve gotten so used to this daily routine. Back at my old place, I wouldn’t have showered every day ordinarily._ Mikado ran back into his room, cold air crashing against his warm, wet skin and grabbed a t-shirt and jeans. He hurried back into the bathroom after picking up a fallen sock thinking:  _I’m so glad I made the choice to stay here with Izaya._

* * *

 

 

After about 15 minutes of preparing breakfast, Mikado heard the clacking of a door closing and turned to look behind him. “Good morning...” he greeted the person entering the room but turned his eyes down at his work.

 

His body flinched slightly in surprise as two slender arms wrapped around it and pulled it into someone’s chest. “Morning—slept good?” That same person’s chin rested itself on Mikado’s left shoulder.

 

Mikado placed one of his hands on the arms that were holding him. “Yeah, for the most part. What about you?” He turned the knob of a stove burner to “off” and turned around to face his partner, who smiled softly upon seeing Mikado’s face.

 

Mikado’s boyfriend—Izaya Orihara—had convinced Mikado to move in with him about two years before for convenience and business issues...or, that’s what he told him. In reality, he had left out the fact that he preferred to have Mikado work for/with him than his former secretary Namie Yagiri, who he found considerably less intriguing and interesting. Mikado, on the other hand, he considered to be a “true gem” and “one of a kind”. Which is why when Izaya developed feelings for the younger man, he felt that they would be “humanity’s greatest combination” if they ever got together. He still thought that, even two years after they started dating.

 

“I slept fine, for the most part,” Izaya replied and adjusted his arms so they rested lower on Mikado’s waist.

 

“No weird nightmares or anything like that recently, or...?”

 

“Nope, nothing,” The older man out of the two took a short pause. “What made you not sleep well? You said a ‘for the most part’ when I asked you.”

 

Mikado turned back around and strode over to a counter in the kitchen, where his cell phone rested. “Well,” He began, as he scrolled through his notifications. “Anri called me in the middle of the night yesterday, panicking about being chased by someone. I tried to talk to her, but the line went dead.” He closes out of his phone and dropped it back on the counter. “So, I basically stayed up all night worrying. I hope she’s alright...”

 

Izaya’s mouth maintained an abnormally plain expression, while his eyes stayed locked on to Mikado. “...I’m sure she’s fine. After all,” he plucked one of his phones out of his own pocket, tapped around a bit, and showed several news screens to his partner. “There’s nothing on the news about a murder or something malicious. She probably made it home and forgot to call you.” Mikado nodded slowly and his eyes darted downward. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. She is that kind of person, after all.” However, Izaya picked up the sense that Mikado was still anxious due to his body mannerisms. “Hey,” he said to Mikado, prompting the latter to turn around. “Yes?”

 

The older raven stepped forward and softly placed his lips upon Mikado’s forehead. The younger male twitched slightly at the contact. The spot where the lips had touched sent a warm, tingling sensation right through Mikado’s body; it almost seemed like every single inch of hair on his arms and legs were standing up. But it didn’t quite feel enough for either of them. As Izaya’s lips parted from Mikado’s skin, they were met with another one of themselves in a gentle and sweet embrace. Mikado wrapped his arms around Izaya’s neck, pulling the two even closer together.

 

It seemed so strange to both of them, even if one of them did have more experience with kissing. With less than two inches separating the two, it seemed as if the two young men were the only people in the world. There wasn’t anyone else in the apartment except the two of them, wrapped up in the comfort that they’re alone, and that they’re alone together.

 

Their lips parted for a brief moment before Izaya spoke. “We should have a day together. Today, just the two of us. We can go wherever, do whatever...” Mikado’s eyelashes fluttered open, in a way that made it seem like they were weighed down. “I planned to meet Masaomi in the hospital, today. I’m really sorry about that...” Mikado took his arms off of his boyfriend and dropped them to his sides. “I do want to go somewhere with you, but...I can’t, today. I haven’t visited him since he was admitted, which is odd in itself.” Mikado stepped away from Izaya, grabbed his phone and shoved it in his jean pocket. Izaya frowned as Mikado proceeded with his sentence. His auburn eyes narrowed a little, creating a bitter expression. “I see...I suppose you’ll be leaving now, then?”

 

Mikado slipped on his Vans sneakers and grabbed a tote bag off of a hook on a wall. “That seems to the the case. I should pick something up for him on the way there, now that I think about it...” He slipped on a dark grey zipper hoodie and looked up at Izaya, as if to confirm what he said. The other young man was still standing in the kitchen, looking at his phone, mouth slightly agape. “...okay, see you in a bit.” He looked up just as the other closed the door shut.

 

* * *

 

 

“Not gonna lie dude, you look like some gay dude at Starbucks, sitting alone with a laptop and an espresso.”

 

“Are you referring to my Vans or my beanie this time?”

 

The blond in the hospital bed sat up and shrugged. “Both, as usual. Seriously, if you want fashion tips, you can ask me.”

 

Mikado rolled his eyes and smirked. “I’m not taking fashion advice from someone who wears Gucci Peppa Pig shirts unironically.”

 

Masaomi pointed a finger and raised his eyebrows comically. “Hey, don’t talk shit about Peppa Pig,” he leaned forward, adding emphasis on his point. “She is a gangster in disguise and I can prove it!” Suddenly, the young man doubled over in sudden pain and held his upper abdomen. “Agh...”

 

Mikado sat in a chair next to Masaomi’s hospital bed, with his bag propped up against the chair leg. “Don’t push yourself, man...how’s your stomach?”

 

Once the pain dissipated, Masaomi looked down at himself, at an area in which a heavy wound was inflicted. “It’s getting better slowly, I think. I might actually be able to get out soon and be on the road again.” Mikado nodded slowly, as he seemed to have taken that as positive news.

 

The blond looked over to the side at his best friend. “How’s your...relationship doing?” His voice seemed to carry a hint of a scowl, laced with poison. Mikado already knew that Masaomi abhorred the fact that he and Izaya were together, but he figured that he would be over it enough to at least talk about it without grimacing. “We’re pretty good,” Mikado replied. “He actually wanted to go out today, but I came here to visit you because I made those plans ahead of time.” At this, Mikado could see Masaomi grinning out of the corner of his eye, even though the latter was facing the large window beside his bed. “He mustn’t have been to happy to hear that.”

 

“No, he was chill about it.”

 

Masaomi raised an eyebrow. “Izaya-san? Chill? Never thought I would hear someone describe him with that word, of all words...”

 

Mikado fiddled with the Popsocket that was glued to the back of his phone case and let out a sigh. “I know how you feel about him, but he truly is kind to me. He treats me like...he basically treats me as if I’m the only human being in the world. Whatever he did to you was years ago, Masaomi, that can’t possibly still be bothering you.”

 

Somewhat dissatisfied with his best friend’s answer, Masaomi shrugged and flopped backwards onto his pillow. “...alright, have it your way.” He really didn’t feel like arguing with his best friend in a hospital room.

 

Mikado, after a few moments of awkward silence, picked up his now-empty tote bag(as he had bought some gifts for Masaomi prior to visiting) and headed for the door. “I should probably head back now, anyway.” His eyes landed on Masaomi, who was picking at his nails. “I’ll see you around.”

 

“...yup.” Just a simple, one worded answer to leave a hospital visit off on an uncomfortable and awkward note. Mikado took this as an invitation to leave the room, and did so. 

 

 _I do wish that Masaomi would give Izaya another chance, sometime. It’s been, what five or six years since the Blue Squares incident happened? I get that it threw into nothing less of a depression for a while, but..._ Mikado plugged in a set of earbuds as he came into contact with the cool outside city air and began a route home.  _...I still think that he should be given another chance. Izaya’s shown countless times that he loves me, like this morning._

_Yeah._

 

_What’s Masaomi getting upset about, anyway?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Foreshadowing? Or just coincidence? You’ll find out soon...
> 
> There’s probably gonna be some smut next chapter, but not too much.


	3. bellyache - Billie Eilish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written in Izaya’s POV. Some references to sexy time in here, but not too much, really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short little chapter, mainly about Izaya and his feelings toward Kida and Mikado. Gonna get a bit heavy in here.

I hate this.

 

I hate all of it. It’s all so bothersome, like tiny little daggers being driven into the crevices of my mind.

 

I don’t even care what we are, or what we’re doing right now. I just don’t, okay? It doesn’t matter. None of it does.

 

But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you. Of course I love you. No...I can’t just leave it at that. That’s like a sin. There’s just so much more I can...describe this feeling with. Why love...love can’t even begin to describe it.

 

Is it wrong? That even though we’ve been together for two years, I still long for the touch of your skin, for the sultry sound of your sweet voice and how it resonates deep in my soul? It’s like I’m a teenager all over again, pining after another. Is it normal to still feel this way about you?

 

I know where we are. We’re in my room, with the shades pulled and the door closed. We’re on my bed, and I’m on top of you. Our discarded clothes lie in lumps on the floor near the bed, exposing our bodies to each other. I absolutely adore everything about you, from the way your eyes glisten to every emotion you have to how your soft, inky hair soothes my hands every time I run them through it. Your little gasps that slip past your lips kill me every time we do this.

 

They call out my name, but I don’t hear it.

 

I hear hers, and I hear his.

 

This is why my stomach forms a deep pit in itself, even as we’re going through something as intimate as this. I can’t bear to imagine her on top of you instead of me, that disgrace that calls herself a “parasite”. A parasite. A bottom-feeding, insignificant waste of time. I see your hands on her body, not mine.

Time and time again, my brain warns me not to tear the hair out of my scalp with my own two clammy hands. The hands I used to destroy the parasite, all for his sake. My lips drift from a sensitive spot on his neck down to the center of his bare chest, and I look back up at him. Oh, how he looks so perfect. His cheeks are tinged with a bright shade of poppy red, and his deep blue eyes are clouded over with what looks to be desire. I forget about that dreadful woman, just for a second, as I marvel over the treasure that is pinned beneath my body. This isn’t the first time we’ve done something like this, obviously. Nevertheless, every time your voice pierces through the sounds of silence that fill the room, my heart threatens to jump out of my chest.

 

Only for a second is it silent, before he moans my name once again.

 

I can tell that this won’t be ending anytime soon.

 

...and he does it again. Either I’m getting better at this, or he’s getting more sensitive to my touch somehow. Ordinarily, I would be loving this. I’m not, tonight.

 

I hope that waste of oxygen in the hospital is happy.

 

I hope he’s happy that I feel like I’m hearing his name being moaned instead of mine.

 

That I feel as if I’m being ripped apart limb by limb every time I hear him say your name. Everything about his name disgusts me and jabs a blade into my mind, infecting it and turning it a mucky green. I despise that colour.

 

That infection soon trickles from my brain to my neck, and then to my heart, transforming half of it into nothing short of a jealous beast. The pain increases to the point where I start to get used to it, and where I figure out how to mask it with something less menacing.

 

I loathe him almost as much as I hate that other brute. He repels me; they both do. Killing the monster will be a challenge, as I’ve discovered over many years of observing and fighting. But killing the other one?

 

 

Killing Masaomi Kida will be a cinch.

 

 

I just wish I had done it sooner.

* * *

 

Afterwards, when the dusky setting sun had set and transformed into a navy widespread screen, we both laid under inked linen sheets. My arms wrapped around his petite body, and him curled up slightly while pressing his face into my chest. I wonder if my breathing helped him relax.

 

He wasn’t yet asleep though, as he muttered, “Izaya?”

 

I tilted my head down a little. “Yes?”

 

The arms that had worked their way around my lithe body at some point squeezed a tiny bit as he whispered: “I love you.”

 

“...I love you most.”

 

I could practically hear him smiling, and I’ll bet he could hear me as well.

 

I can’t possibly let someone like Masaomi Kida take this away from me. I can’t. Not on my life, or his.

 

That brat isn’t ready for a relationship with MY favorite human. He’s proved to be unstable in relationships, like with Saki-chan. Boy, was that a mess.

 

My eyes narrow. He really is a problem, isn’t he? A large obstacle indeed.

 

But...just for time’s sake, I won’t kill him just yet. I’ll save something...extra special for him. Maybe I’ll move on to Shizu-chan, and finally throw him out of my life, once and for all.

 

Soon, the two biggest problems of my lifetime will be gone. The brute will take some preparation and planning, since he’s made up of a wall of pure muscle. That only makes Kida-kun’s death all the more enjoyable.

 

I smile to myself, unbeknownst to the man wrapped in my arms, and stroke his hair with a soft touch.

 

I’ll get rid of the brute.

 

Then I’ll get rid of that Final Problem.

 

The easy way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you catch the reference?


	4. Sleeper - whenyoung

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback to Anri before her premature death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ADFDSFDFSASF SORRY FOR THE WEIRD HIATUS!!

Somewhere in the middle of a city, a young woman sat in a park, her body drenched in a cold sweat.

 

The cool autumn air wasn't helping her out too much. The way the breeze rustled tree leaves and blew her hair only made her more impatient. A leaf that previously dangled from a tree branch snapped off and fluttered onto the young woman's park bench. Her eyes were drawn toward the leaf, as it was an alarming shade of scarlet. Another breeze came along, and the leaf was swept away into a sea of people and traffic.

 

As interesting as the leaf looked, it barely provided Anri a good distraction from her current dilemma. Anybody that could see would notice that there was something going on with the way that her facial features contorted. She was awaiting information about a certain concern of hers that bothered her and nipped at her heels constantly. Anri couldn't shake this annoying feeling that first appeared a few years ago, which she was careful enough to not brush off due to past experiences. It was now that she simply decided to take action upon it.

 

Originally, she was to gain her desired information by herself, but she realized that she would get badly hurt or even killed if she was caught. So, she resorted to using a tool - a blade embedded inside of her body that she had possessed since she was a young girl, better known as Saika. The city teemed with Saika's "children" that would listen to their "mother" through their human host. Anri figured that if she gained information this way, she would have less of a chance of getting injured, and maybe - just maybe - her friend would be saved.

 

Anri's cold hands absentmindedly scrolled through her cell phone. In that time, she thought of her mild-mannered best friend. She worried about him almost constantly, even though Erika told her there was nothing to worry about. She wanted to believe that so hardly and so badly, but the emotional side of her brain took over her logical side and forced her to worry. Her body contracted in a little, reflecting her feelings and thoughts.

 

"Mother," an individual approached Anri at the bench. He wore a sunshine yellow bandana around his head - a colour gang symbol. "I found something you should like to see..."

 

Anri's head perked up at the man immediately, eyes widened and tinted with hope. She placed her phone into a pocket and quickly stood up. "Is this about what I asked?"

 

The individual, slim-built and dark skinned, only looked back at Anri. "Yes, however, I can only show you his general location..." The fear of being caught slipped through the cracks of this particular Saika vessel's words, which reflected one of Anri's current emotions. "I would not want either you or me to get caught with possibly valuable information, Mother."

 

Anri's arms shifted a bit as a light breeze flew by. "It's fine. Please lead me to the location."

 

* * *

 

 

It may not have been the autumn air that helped her out, but nonetheless, the woman persisted, and kept her sights set.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heLLO EVERYONE, sorry for not updating in, like, 8 years. I've been struggling with balancing classwork and my mental health a lot recently, which may explain my absence. I'm significantly better now, though, and as I write this I am smack in the middle of midterm week. Whoop-dee-doo. 
> 
> Anyway, I have a wattpad now!! I just post poems and shit on there, so check it out if you want.
> 
> (psst...one of the poem series is DRRR!! based and the first chapter is IZMK)


	5. Car Radio - Twenty One Pilots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kida sums up his night.

My stomach feels all funny.

 

 

You know, naturally, this room isn't supposed to be as stuffy as it feels to me. It's a beautiful, clear, crisp night, and the windows are cracked slightly open. It's also a hospital room. The people who stay and sleep in these rooms are supposed to feel as comfortable and at "at peace-ful" as they possibly can while they're in a hospital. However, I can say from multiple experiences that I've felt more uncomfortable in these rooms than I might ever have felt outside them.

 

...Alright, that was a little bit of an exaggeration. The worst moments of my life have been lived through outside of hospital rooms.

 

...No, I will NOT think about that. OR that...or that. Bad things don't help a bad mood. Someone told me that one time. I forgot who, though.

 

...God damn it. Who on Earth told me that? I'll figure this out, and then I'll keep trying to sleep.

 

I have a strong feeling that it was Mikado who said that. Yeah...it was probably him. He says weird stuff sometimes that actually makes sense.

 

Both of my eyes begin to sting. Kept them open for too long. I blink a few times and use my hands to rub the feeling out of my eyes. Both arms flop back down beside me on bed sheets.

 

I let a heavy sigh puff past my lips.

 

Speaking of Mikado, what the heck happened today when he came over? He said some stuff about how Izaya-san was a good guy or whatever, and I disagreed or something, but then the ending of the conversation...his face, his mannerisms, just--it all looked and sounded so _sour_ , and...ugly...?

My entire mood basically took a complete 180, and I ended up feeling worse when he left than when he entered...that's not good. That's not good, this...this whole thing...isn't a good thing. Something's going on. I can taste and smell the abnormality, but I can't hear, see, or feel it. 

 

This is starting to freak me out.

 

I bring myself up so that I'm sitting, with my lumpy off-white pillow acting as back support. My knees draw in to my chest, causing the blanket to crumple and drag inwards. My arms wrap my legs together like a ribbon of rope.

 

I feel so helpless. I feel like I know something I'm not supposed to know, but I don't even know what it is. Is it this feeling of uncertainty that's throwing me off? Or is it unfiltered fear? Is this all being planned? Am I yet another test subject or pawn in one of that bastard's games? 

 

I want to look after Mikado. I need to look after him. Nobody's gonna do it for me. I can't let him get mixed up in dangerous stuff again. I can't take it. I won't be able to take it. I'll crumble.

 

My hands have grown clammy after a few minutes. I run those fingers through my hair, and then the hands that those same fingers belong to travel to my face and blanket it. Only a few slits near my eyes let me see.

 

I hear distant voices from the outdoors. Those voices are worms that wriggle into my ears and stick. Or, they're alarms that make me jump. I writhe my hands deeper into my face.

 

He's doing something to me...he's trying to put me out of commission, or derail me...he knows what's going on. He knows what I think, somehow. He's planning something. Something big. Bad. Something big and bad that's directed at someone. Out of revenge? Pure malice, lust or hatred? Boredom? All five of those options and possibly more?

 

I feel my body contracting even more than it already has. My stomach sinks. Even with my palms digging into my eyes, I can still feel liquid welling in my tear ducts, uncontrolled and emotional.

 

What have I ever done? What despicable action that I once committed acknowledged something this foul as a reasonable punishment?! Does something like yourself call this torture "fair" ?!

 

And why...why aren't--

 

**click.**

 

Why aren't I dead yet?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short little chapter.


End file.
